1899, The Summer Of Love
by TripleThreatKat
Summary: When young, naive Blaine Anderson comes to Paris to take part in the Bohemian Revolution, he didn't expect the Porcelain Doll to come and turn his life around forever. But there is someone who would rather have the Porcelain Doll to himself...
1. This Story is About Love

_There was a boy_

_A very strange_

_Enchanted boy_

_They say he wandered very far_

_Very far_

_Over land and sea_

_A little shy_

_And sad of eye_

_But very wise was he_

_And then one day_

_One magic day_

_He passed my way_

_And while we spoke of many things_

_Fools and kings_

_This he said to me_

_**The greatest thing**_

_**You'll ever learn**_

_**Is just to love**_

_**And be loved in return**_

**Paris, 1900**

He sat on the floor, bottle of cheap wine in hand, like he did every night. It seemed nights like this had happened for years. He could remember when this room wasn't so lonely. He could remember all the love that once filled this room. He ran a hand through his dark black curls as tears once again started to fall from his hazel eyes.

_I miss you so much..._

The young man sniffed and glanced up at his typewriter, now dusty from lack of use. A pair of glaz colored eyes against porcelain skin flashed in his memory. He stood as the haunting, beautiful voice that often occupied his dreams came into his mind.

_" Tell our story. Promise me..."_

The young mad sat on the wooden stool in front of his desk, staring at the keys in the typewriter.

He needed to find the right words. He raked through his brain, trying to find them. He grabbed a blank piece of paper from the stack on his desk and ran it through the typewriter. The words came slowly but surely. Tears clouded his vision, but he didn't mind; he'd promised him, after all.

_**The Moulin Rouge. A nightclub. A dance hall for those individuals who preferred the company of men over women. Ruled over by William Schuster, it was a kingdom of nighttime pleasures where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and handsome creatures of the underworld. The most handsome and beautiful of all these was the man I loved. Kurt. An escort. He sold his love to men who often were with him unbeknownst to their wives. They called him the Porcelain Doll , and he was the star of the Moulin Rouge.**_

_** The man I loved is dead.**_

_** I first came to Paris one year ago...**_


	2. The Children of the Revolution

_**Edit 2/23/12**_

_I went in and changed just a few things to make it less like a carbon copy of the film. Nothing to drastic, of course!_

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><p><em>Hola. Sorry its taken a long time to update this. I've been really busy with school and whatnot ( senior year FTW). I hope i can update this more often than i have my other stories, but we'll have to see. I never forget about a story, though<em>_! I hope you enjoy!_

_Love,_

_Kat  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Paris, 1899<strong>

The train slowed to a stop at the platform. Steam billowed out from underneath the train as the doors opened and the passengers stepped out, the porters saying a cheerful " Bonjour! Bienvenue `a Paris!" A young man with a single suitcase and a guitar exiting the train nodded with a " Merci" and stepped onto the platform.

Blaine Anderson smiled to himself. The young English song writer had heard so much about the bohemian revolution happening here, and he simply _had_ to be a part of it. He didn't really have anything to lose. His father had promptly thrown him out of the house when Blaine mentioned the idea to him, along with the fact that Blaine was what his father called a " bloody faggot." Blaine didn't mind all too much, as he had managed to sneakily withdraw a few hundred pounds from his trust fund to get to Paris before his father cut him off. He had next to nothing now.

Walking through the streets of the finer area of Paris was nice, but it reminded Blaine too much of London. The well dressed women daintily sipped their coffee at the cafes while the husbands of those women talked of politics and whatnot. Blaine rolled his eyes. _Only difference is the language_ he thought as the street became narrower. The people became less and less dignified as well. There had to have been at least three women attempt to sell themselves to him, all speaking in French, but Blaine could understand them clearly. He learned French while in school, now it was like a second language.

Blaine came to what looked like a large head with the mouth open and gaping as the passage way into a small village called Montmartre. Blaine vaguely recalled his father lecturing him about this " village of sin", but Blaine knew that this little village was the center of the bohemian world. As he walked in, he heard and explosion of different music and singing. Girls danced on boxes to the rhythm of a guitar, laughing as they did. These children of the revolution were free spirits, and that is what Blaine aspired to be. Growing up in the all too perfect walls of Dalton Academy for Boys made him caged, and he wanted to get out and express who he was. He came here to write songs about what _he_ wanted to sing about; truth, beauty, freedom, and, above all things, love.

Blaine came to a tall apartment building that had obviously seen better days. He paid with the little money he had left for a room on the top floor. The old landlady had given him a seductive look while handing him the key, but left with a hoarse " enjoy your stay, Monsieur". Blaine looked out of the one window in the room, getting a breathtaking view of Paris. He looked down and saw a large fake elephant in the courtyard of an establishment. The large red letters on the marquee of the establishment read _**Moulin Rouge**_, and Blaine snickered. He had heard of such places, especially this one. He had heard it catered to men who preferred the company of other men and women who went to bed with their fellow females. The fact that he lived right next to a place where he might get a chance at a love life made a glimmer of hope appear, but Blaine knew he would never be able to afford a place like that now.

After putting away his few belongings, Blaine sat down on a rickety stool in front of an old wooden desk. On it sat his typewriter. He had planned to start writing down lyrics right away, but there was one problem. He had never been in love before! How was he supposed to write songs about love when he had never experienced it? Had he come here for nothing?

Just then, a loud crack was heard from Blaine's ceiling and suddenly, an unconscious man with a mohawk fell through, a rope tied around his ankle suspending him off the floor. Blaine jumped off the stool in surprise. " The hell?"

A sort of rolling sound was heard from the doorway and Blaine looked over to see a young gentleman in a wheelchair with round spectacles on, making his brown eyes appear quite large. Behind him was a man with light blonde hair and (only Blaine would have noticed this) rather large lips. The man in the wheelchair's eyes lit up and he smiled.

" Oh, Sam, a new neighbor! My name is Arthur Abrams! Do excuse this poor fellow, he has quite the problem with alcohol, you see. He developed narcolepsy from it. He'll be up and running one minute and then fast asleep the next!" this Arthur fellow talked very fast. The blond man stepped up to Blaine.

" Sorry about him. He can get a little too excited sometimes. Samuel Evans, Monsieur." Samuel held out his hand.

" Blaine Anderson. Pleasure to meet you. I just moved here from London." Blaine took his hand and shook it, still confused at what was going on.

" Ah, came to join the revolution, did you?"

" I- um, I suppose so."

" This here is Noah Puckerman. We call him the ' Drunken Jew'. OH that's a good laugh!" Arthur said, nudging the unconscious man and laughing. Samuel rolled his eyes, but laughed with the wheelchair-bound man.

" Artie, is everything alright?" a voice said from above. The three * conscious* men looked up. Two other men looked back down at them.

" Yes, yes, Micheal , everything's fine!" Arthur addressed the Asian looking man who was... dressed like a nun? Blaine raised an eyebrow. This encounter just got stranger and stranger. Micheal and the other man ( who looked to be even younger than Blaine) started to hoist the unconscious Jew up through the hole in the ceiling.

" I beg your pardon, but may I ask what the _hell_ is going on?" Blaine said, clearly very confused.

" Oh, yes, terribly sorry. We're just upstairs rehearsing for a play I'm directing."

" A play?"

" Yes! A new modern piece called ' Spectacular Spectacular'! It's set in Switzerland!" Arthur explained.

" We're hoping to get the owner of the Moulin Rouge to produce it." Samuel said.

" Well NOW we don't have _anyone _to play the young, sensitive, Swiss, poet goat herder now that Noah is unconscious again! We might as well cancel the ENTIRE production!" Arthur moaned and started to wheel himself out of Blaine's room.

" Yes, and I still 'ave ta finish the music!" the baby-faced man said softly in a thick Irish accent.

" We'll just have to find someone to read the part. Don't be so dramatic, Artie." Sam said, grabbing Arthur's chair and pulling him back.

Silence fell over the room, but Blaine soon realized that everyone was staring at him.

" What?"

Before Blaine knew it, he was upstairs, dressed like a goat herder, standing in for the ' Unconscious Jew'. Micheal was singing ( albeit off key) a jumble of lyrics to disjointed music being played by the Irish man (called Rory). Blaine stood awkwardly on a ladder that was attached to a wooden replica of a mountain with the script in his hand which, in all honesty, was horrible. Micheal hit a particularly sour note which drove Arthur into a fit.

" Stop stop STOP! Micheal, can't you at least _try _to stay on key? This is the stirring love song that will bring the show to the climax! And you, Rory, that God awful droning is drowning out Sam's words. Try the same tune with only some decorative piano."

" I keep telling you; I'm a dancer!" Micheal protested.

" Honestly, tha doesn't sound like somethin' a nun would say to a goat 'earder" Rory commented quietly.

" Maybe _you_ should write it then!"

" Now see here..." group all began debating on changing the lyrics to fit the scenario perfectly. Even Noah woke up to put in his share, but he collapsed back onto the bed as quickly as he had woken up.

Blaine muddled over the possibilities for lyrics _._

" My love canna stop!" Rory said.

"My heart quakes and shakes!"

Suddenly, it came to him.

" My heart stops when you look at me!" Blaine yelled over the arguing.

Everyone went quiet. They all turned to stare at Blaine again.

The group of bohemians whispered the lyrics to themselves. Rory played the tune while singing the words.

" It fits perfectly! Please keep goin'!" Rory ran up to Blaine and grabbed his hand to bring him over to the piano.

Blaine sat down on the bench and studied the handwritten music.

_My Heart Stops_

_When You Look At Me  
><em>

Blaine played and sang the first verse out on the out of tune piano, then had to make up the second.

_Just... Just One Touch_

_Now Baby, I Believe_

Blaine became lost in the song, like he often did when he wrote.

_This Is Real_

_So Take A Chance_

_Don't Ever Look Back_

_Because You Make Me_

_Feel Like I'm Living A_

_Teenage Dream_

_The Way You Turn Me On_

_I Can't Sleep_

_Lets Run Away_

_And Don't Ever Look Back_

Blaine looked up at Rory. " Was that good or-" All the men were staring at him, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open from gasping.

" Amazing..." Arthur said, his eyes wide. "I can't believe... you wrote that so quickly. Sam, you and Blaine need to write the lyrics together!"

" Yes!" said a voice. They all turned to Noah, who had woken up again, " With those two writing, we can't be fooled!"

" But," Sam started to say, " No offence, Blaine, but have you ever written anything like this before?"

" No, I haven't."

" He has talent, Sam! I thought you liked talented people..." Noah said with a seductive smirk in Sam's direction. Sam blushed.

Blaine blinked. Was Sam...?

" What I _mean_ to say is, how are we going to get this passed Schuester?" Sam said, sounding annoyed and nervous.

The group of bohemians huddled around each other, leaving Blaine out of their circle.

" We could..."

" But what if Blaine isn't..."

" Someone ask him..."

" Wouldn't Kurt suspect?"

" Here's what we'll do..."

Arthur came out from the circle first. " Blaine, if you're going to work with us, I need to ask you something very personal."

Blaine nodded. " Yes...?"

" Are you a homosexual?"

Blaine's eyes widened. No one had ever asked him that directly. In fact, the only person he had ever told was his father.

_" You're WHAT?"_

_ " I figured I'd let you know before I leave for Montmartre."_

_ " I knew it. You're going there only to end up wasting your life with some faggot who call's itself a can can dancer!" _

Blaine came here to be himself. He pushed his father's words aside.

" Yes."

" Told you" Micheal whispered to Rory.

" Is... is that a problem?"

" No!" Arthur elbowed Micheal in the side. " Of course not! It's wonderful, actually. Now Sam has someone to talk to."

Sam blushed again. " Artie..."

" Anyway, I have a plan. There's a young man who works at the Moulin Rouge by the name of Kurt Hummel. He's the star of the show and is very close with Schuster. If we can get Kurt to like your work, he will insist to Schuster that you write the songs for the show. Ah, its fool proof! Gentlemen, this could be the chance we've been looking for! It could become the greatest bohemian work that has ever been created!"

* * *

><p><em>Yes, yes, I made Sam gay. This is an AU, after all. Anything can happen!<em>

**French Translation:**

** Bonjour! Bienvenue `a Paris! = Good morning! Welcome to Paris!**

**Merci = Thank you.**

**Teenage Dream belongs to Katy Perry  
><strong>


	3. Here We Are Now Entertain Us!

The bohemians began discussing their plans for getting the show on it's feet. Blaine wanted to help this group of unique individuals, really he did, but he wasn't sure he could do.

_I have nothing to lose if I do help them, but I'll be letting them down if this Kurt person doesn't like my work..._

" We'll go to tonight's show."

" Yes, yes, good idea. It's the big show tonight so Schuster will be too distracted to see what we're up to. Blaine, I trust you have a good suit?"

" Y-yes, but-"

" Excellent! This is just marvelous!"

" But, Arthur-"

" Please, Blaine, call me Artie."

" Alright, Artie, this whole situation, though very intriguing, makes me... makes me uncomfortable."

" Uncomfortable? How?"

" It's just... like I said before, I've never written anything of this magnitude. What if this Kurt Hummel doesn't like anything I have. Hell, what can I do for him? Just make something up?"

" Yes!"

Blaine groaned. Rory placed a hand on his shoulder. " It'll be alright. You're a bloody genius, Blaine."

Blaine tried to smile at the younger man, but his nerves won.

" Oh, don't be nervous, Anderson! Our favorite little doll is going to absolutely _adore_ you." Noah said.

" Favorite little wha-"

" A toast! To our new friend's first job in Paris!" Sam announced, holding a glass bottle of bright green liquid. Micheal was behind him with six shot glasses in his hands. Sam began to fill each up with the mystery liquid.

" Um, what is that?" Blaine asked, noticing the picture of a fairy on the front of the bottle.

" Absinthe." Artie said plainly, as if he were talking about drinking water.

Blaine's eyes widened. He'd heard about this sort of liquor before. It was supposedly highly addictive and made you have strange visions if you drank to much at one time. His father told him that...

_To hell with you, Stuart Anderson III_

Blaine accepted his glass and they all toasted before drinking the liquid down.

* * *

><p>Everything was wonderful. Everything felt <em>incredible<em> right now.

_So many colors..._

Face after beautiful face, both male and female, danced though his vision. He had almost forgotten where he was when a voice pulled him out of this dizzying trance.

" We've successfully evaded Schuster, gents!" Artie's voice stood out. Blaine felt himself being pulled into a chair after he tried to follow a young lady in a flaming red dress.

" Easy there, Anderson. There's plenty more where she came from."

" First time with the Green Fairy, eh?" Rory said to him, clapping him on the shoulder.

" What... what green fairy?" the group laughed. Blaine turned his attention back to the beautiful faces.

Suddenly all the lights went out. A hush fell over the audience.

" Welcome, my friends, to the Moulin Rouge!" a voice boomed from overhead. At the back of the dance floor, doors burst open with light streaming from them, revealing the silhouettes of dancers, some in long skirts, some in tight fitting pants. The crowd roared. The dancers ran forward, going to random tables. The same lady in the red dress came to the bohemian's table, but when she got close, Blaine realized that this was no lady. Nevertheless, this queen with chocolate colored skin and sparkling eyes asked a sultry voice, along with the rest of the dancers:

" Voulez-vouz coucher avec moi?"

Blaine's jaw dropped. The drag queen giggled. " First time, baby?"

" Good to see you, Unique." Artie laughed. Blaine cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter in his chair as Unique skipped off to join the others.

" Got some dark desire?" The voice boomed out again. The crowd cheered as another door opened, reveling a man in a bright red coat and top hat. He walked over to the dancers.

" Love to play with fire?" the man asked to the audience. He grabbed a girl with long black hair and gave her a twirl. Blaine heard Noah chuckling.

" Why not let it rip? _Live a little bit_!" the man yelled out, laughing. " I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, the lovely, the fiesty, and the sultry Cheerios!" The crowd roared again.

" That's Schuster. He run this entire place." Sam murmured to Blaine. Blaine nodded, making eye contact with one of the males. He wore nothing but tight red leather pants and high heeled black boots. The man winked, making Blaine turn away, his cheeks burning with blush.

Schuster turned toward the orchestra. " The can-can!" he announced. The Cheerios ran to their places. The music began with a loud cymbal crash, and the Cheerios broke out into a mad dance, twirling and kicking their fishnet clad legs high in a circle while a blond girl stood in the middle, raising and lowering her skirt, smiling and winking all the while. Schuster would even join in on the fun, sometimes grabbing a dancer and groping them in front of an audience member. This went on for a good while, with different dancers going into the middle and performing provocative choreography. The audience ( which was mostly old men in suits) reached out whenever a dancer would pass by them, wanting something exciting in their dull lives.

Blaine watched all this with wide eyes. The effects of the absinthe were still strong and his vision would blur in and out of focus. His companions were all cheering and making comments about which ones they liked the best. The can-can seemed to go on forever. The dancers were now grabbing random audience members to dance with them. Micheal even ran off to dance with a small Asian girl in a tight black lace dress, and he seemed to know the choreography well. Blaine was staring to get light headed from watching the dancers spiral around each other, and he was just going to turn around to tell Sam when suddenly, the lights shut off yet again. A white light shone down onto the stage and silver confetti rained down. Blaine looked up and a figure sitting on a swing suspended in the air.

" There he is! The Porcelain Doll..." Artie whispered.

" Porcelain Doll? Wha-" Blaine was about to question, but he was cut off my the most beautiful voice that had ever reached his ears.

_I bet you thought I was soft and sweet_

_You thought an angel swept you off your feet_

_But I'm about to turn up the heat_

_I'm here for your entertainment _

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><p><strong>AN**_  
><em>

**Hullo again! Sorry this one is so short; i wanted to post something as soon as i could.  
><strong>

**So, if anyone is confused about how this particular Moulin Rouge works, basically my version has nights where it only caters to gay men, and others where it is lesbian night. Then, they do shows where they have both ( like the one you just read). Hope that makes sense!  
><strong>

**French translations:  
><strong>

**Voulez-vouz coucher avec moi? = Would you like to sleep with me?  
><strong>

**_For Your Entertainment _belongs to Adam Lambert and Sony.  
><strong>


	4. When Will I Begin To Live Again

_**Earlier that evening...**_

Kurt picked up his costume for tonight's show. A tight black bodysuit, corset, fishnet knee highs with garters, black lace up oxford boots with heels, and a bowtie embellished with glittering rhinestones. The corset was also decked out with black and white rhinestones and it even had coat tails on the bottom.

_These_ s_illy costumes..._

Next to his vanity sat a little gold birdcage. The golden yellow bird inside chirped happily and hopped about. Kurt giggled.

" At least you're happy in a cage, Pav." Kurt said. He pulled on the bodysuit and discovered that it was still too loose on his thin frame. _Oh well..._ He grabbed the garters and slid them up his thin legs along with the knee highs. Suddenly, the door opened, reveling Sebastian.

" Five minutes, dolly." he said, his slimy attitude oozing out of his words. Kurt rolled his eyes.

" Don't you know how to knock, Smythe?"

" Please, you don't have anything I haven't seen." Sebastian picked up the sparkling corset. " My my, ginger out did herself this time."

" Yes, Emma is very talented. Now if you'll excuse me-"

" Don't you need someone to lace you up? Big show tonight; better look your best."

Kurt glared at him for a few seconds before nodding. He placed his hands on his chair and bent over slightly. He heard Sebastian chuckling.

" Shut up and lace me, Smythe."

" Don't be rude. Not the first time I've seen you like this, dolly. You know that." Sebastian sneered in a low voice as he pulled the laces tight. Kurt breathed as deeply as he could in this confined garment. When Sebastian was done, Kurt was feeling the usual lightheaded feeling he got whenever a costume required corsets. Sebastian put his hands around Kurt's waist.

" Damn, you're skinny. Maybe you should get that duke to buy you supper after you two fuck."

" I'm perfectly fine, thank you. Don't you have a pre show to be in? Sue is going to murder you in your sleep if you're late again."

Now it was Sebastian's turn to roll his eyes. " Fine. I can take a hint. See you later, little dolly" he said just before slapping Kurt right on the ass. Kurt gasped and grabbed his hair brush, ready to throw it, but Sebastian was already gone. Kurt sank down to the floor and put his face in his hands.

_Don't cry. Don't you fucking cry, Hummel. It's just another appointment. That's all it is..._

He heard footsteps, but didn't look up. He knew who it was, anyway.

" Swing, Porcelain. On the double." Sue's harsh voice said.

" Alright. Give me a minute," Kurt pulled himself up and over to his vanity. A little more rouge and mascara was applied to his pale face. He placed his top hat onto his head and expertly styled his bangs to sweep up and onto the brim. He pulled on the boots and headed into the crowded back stage area. Finn was waiting for him on the stairs to the flies.

" You look nice." Finn said kindly, obviously used to his little step-brother's risque costumes.

Kurt didn't reply and he walked right past Finn and up the stairs.

" Is there something the matter?" Finn asked. Kurt huffed; he was not in the mood for Finn's clueless disposition.

" Nothings wrong." Kurt snapped a little harsher than he meant too.

" You're nervous about the duke, aren't you?"

_He sees right through me, no matter how much of an oaf he his._

" Hmm..."

" Don't worry about it, Kurt. He'll give you the money you deserve. And when he does," Finn leaned in closer, " You can leave this place and go be a real performer, or go make all those clothes that you draw. You'll make it, Kurt, I know it."

Kurt forced himself to smile. Finn squeezed his brother's shoulder and secured him to the swing, which was really just a trapeze sort of thing with a piece of tough black fabric that went around Kurt's hips to keep him from falling.

" Alright, you're all set. See you out there." Finn said and lumbered back down the steps to join the rest of the performers.

Kurt looked down; they were in the middle of the can can. Will was already out there and, _oh lord_ fondling with Quinn. He laughed to himself. He caught a glimpse of Sebastian gyrating in front of some dirty old man and scoffed.

_At least what I do takes some talent..._

Right on que, the lights went out. Kurt took a breath, but couldn't get enough air in. The corset. It was too tight!

_That bastard!_

Before he could get someone to loosen it for him, he was being lowered down into the spotlight. His performance mentality took over immediately; he crossed his legs and flashed his smile.

_I bet you thought I was soft and sweet, _

_You thought an angel swept you off your feet_

_But I'm about to turn up the heat_

_I'm here for your entertainment_

* * *

><p><em>Surprise! I give you a Kurt! I thought this up while i was working on <strong>Surrender<strong>. I realized that the movie mostly gives us Christian's POV, but in Glee, we get multiple sides of stories. So here's some backstage at teh Moulin Rouge! Special cameo by Pavoratti!  
><em>

_Also, Sebastian is still an asshole. Cuz dats how i roll.  
><em>

_**Also, I changed the title. Wanted something less cliche!**  
><em>


	5. For Your Entertainment

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the beautiful creature. The music picked up, and the Porcelain Doll hopped off of the swing. He danced around with the other boys, his hips hypnotizing.

" So!" Schuster's voice said, " Like what you see?"

" Indeed I do. When do I get to... meet the boy?"

" After the show, I'll escort you myself to his room. He's very excited about this, you know."

" I would hope."

Schuster chuckled and took a sip of his bourbon. " He is, my dear Duke, don't you worry. I've arranged for you and Monsieur Kurt to meet alone right after the show. " Schuster leaned in, " _Totally _alone."

The Porcelain Doll strutted around the stage like a peacock, his stage presence electrifying. The words he sang were of a very seductive nature. The Duke grinned to himself. It were his way, he'd march right up to the boy and carry him away and strip him slowly until-

" Got to run, David. I'll see you in half an hour!" Schuster said. He stood and hopped onto the stage, patting Azimio, the body guard, on the shoulder as he went.

The Duke rolled his eyes. Schuster was a right fool, but his protegees were nothing less than unearthly. He turned his attention back to the performance, imagining all of the things he was going to do that night to the Doll.

_He is mine._

* * *

><p><em>So hot<em>

_Out the box_

_Can we pick up the pace?_

_Turn it up_

_Heat it up_

_I need to be entertained_

_Push the limit_

_Are you with it_

_Baby, don't be afraid_

_I'll hurt you real good, baby_

Blaine's heart was racing and his head was suddenly clear. Never in his wildest dreams had he seen someone like the man dancing before him. True to the name, his skin was so white it almost glowed under the stage lights. The tight costume showed off subtle curves and his long legs were clad in sinfully high boots.

_Let's go_

_It's my show_

_Baby, do what I say_

_Don't trip_

_Off the glitz_

_That I'm gonna display_

_I told you_

_I'll hold you down till you're amazed_

The Porcelain Doll straddled the hips of an older gentleman while singing his next line

_Give it to you_

_Till you're SCREAMING MY NAME!_

Blaine's mouth dropped open again at the note the man was able to hit. The crowd roared and the gentleman the Doll was grinding on slipped him a wad of money. The Doll took it and slipped it into his boot. He pranced away to center stage where a group of the male Cheerios were waiting.

" Come and get me, boys!" the Doll cried. The group of men ran and surrounded him. The Doll was invisible for a moment, but then the dancers lifted him into the air and held him up there. The Doll drove the audience into a frenzy as he ran his hands all over his own body, suspended in the air for everyone to see.

_No escaping when I start_

_Once I'm in I own your heart_

_There's no way you'll ring the alarm_

_Hold on until it's over!_

The Cheerios set him back on his feet. Just then, Schuster appeared behind the Doll just as he was about to straddle another audience member. Schuster blocked him with his cane and pulled the Doll back to the center, a look of fake shock on the Doll's face.

_Oh, do you know what you got into?_

_Can you handle what I'm about to do?_

The Doll turned and faced Schuster, giving him a push then grabbing him by the tie and pulling him close.

_'Cause it's about to get rough for you_

_I'm here for you're entertainment_

By then, all the girls and joined them and held up their large skirts, both flashing the audience and creating a circle of concealment for the Doll to drag Schuster down into away from the audience's eyes. A small brunette came center stage and sang the chorus again, hitting impossible notes and belting out to the heavens, almost as if she were trying to top the Porcelain Doll's vocal performance.

In Blaine's mind, no one would ever be able to to the voice of the Doll.

" Remarkable, ain't he?" Rory said to no one in particular.

" Yes. And to think, all he's been through..."

" What?" Blaine turned. Rory smacked Sam's shoulder. " What's he been through?"

" I don't think we should be the ones to-"

" Oh, never mind them. But don't you worry Blaine, I shall go and arrange for you and Monsieur Kurt to have a private meeting after the show" Artie announced and wheeled himself away from the table, his intentions being to make his way to the floor seats. Instead of doing this he collided with a waiter at the next table over, causing the cocktail on the tray to spill onto a rather important looking man sitting at the table.

" How dare you!" the man exclaimed. Artie looked up and gasped.

" D-Duke Karofsky, a thousand apologies! Here, take my hand-" but there was no handkerchief to be found in Artie's breast pocket. In a moment of panic, he wheeled backwards to the bohemian's table.

" Pardon me, Blaine," Artie said quickly. He reached over and plucked out the handkerchief in Blaine's suit jacket pocket, shaking it out and returning to the sputtering Duke.

" Get your hands off me, cripple!" the Duke growled. Artie tensed. He tossed the handkerchief at the Duke's face.

" Clean yourself off, boisterous pig!" Artie snorted.

" Artie, that's enough!" Sam appeared behind Artie just as the large bodyguard was withdrawing a gun. He took hold of the handles on the chair and pulled Artie in the opposite direction, sending him down into the floor seating area. Artie shouted a thank you and wheeled off to get closer to the stage. Sam sat back down with a sigh.

" Who was that?" Blaine asked, craning his neck around to see who had insulted Artie.

" Duke Karofsky of McKinley; Schuster's biggest investor. If we're lucky, he'll be the one sponsoring _Spectacular Spectacular_."

* * *

><p>" Will, the Duke... is he here?" Kurt asked breathlessly. The corset now felt like a python was wrapping itself around his waist.<p>

" Yes, Kurt. And he's very keen on meeting you." William answered as he was pulling off his layers of clothing, leaving him in only socks and underpants. He handed Kurt his tie. Kurt took it, his mind wondering into a vision of himself in the elephant suite, being smothered by some older man who had the power to give him everything and also to take everything from him.

" You alright, Kurt? You're looking pale."

Kurt ignored William's inquire and peeked out from a gap in the curtain of skirts. " Where is he?" William peeked out as well.

" Shit, that little... he's the one Arthur is harassing with a hankie"

Kurt looked again and squinted, and sure enough, Artie could be seen waving a handkerchief at... Oh, he looked young. Dark hair, tanned skin. Handsome.

" I see him." Kurt sighed. He wasn't expecting to be attracted in any way. Then again, this man could be deciding his future, and that was an attraction, wasn't it?"

" We're all counting on you, son. Make the deal, and you'll be living amongst the stars."

" I know all this, I just need to-" Kurt broke off into a hacking cough that further constricted his waist.

" Are you-"

" Fine. I'm fine. Let's finish the act, hm?" Kurt straightened up and plastered a smile back onto his painted lips, dangling the tie above his head. The crowd roared with laughter and applause when William stood with his hands over his groin and looking embarrassed. Kurt struggled for air, but he had to keep going. **He had to**. He took the tie and ran it between his legs before tossing it into the audience.

_I'm here for your entertainment!_

Kurt leaped into the air and landed into Finn and Jefferey's arms.

" Where too?" Jeffrey whispered to Kurt.

" Table three. Take me to table three" Kurt wheezed. He licked his chapped lips and cleared his throat as best he could. He ignored the taste of blood in his mouth.

* * *

><p>Blaine could here the others laughing at him when he all but moaned at the sight of the Doll thrusting on that tie. He turned to them.<p>

" How am I supposed to impress him? I mean, look at him..."

" Oh, I think your jobs gonna be pretty easy, friend." Rory said. Blaine gave him a quizzical look.

_Do you like what you see?_

A voice purred the song's lyrics into his ear. Blaine turned and was suddenly face to face with the Porcelain Doll.

_Oh, let me entertain you till you scream_


End file.
